Snapped
by serenityrayne417
Summary: "The family...trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together." A story about protecting a loved one and its cost.
1. Chapter 1

**Stef**

I'm racing through the halls at an alarmingly fast rate. Students milling about their lockers shoot me strange looks. It could be due to my fast pace, or the fact that I'm decked out in full uniform. Still, I don't slow down. I make a beeline for the principal's office. I don't even bother knocking; I just open the door.

"What happened?" I ask, not wasting time with a greeting.

Karina Sanchez gives me a weary look and sighs. If had to describe her, I would say 'done.' I look to Lena for an answer, who is standing beside Sanchez. If I had to describe _her_ I would say shocked, confused.

Scared.

"Lena?" Sanchez says quietly, obviously indicating that she should speak. Lena looks up at me with disconsolate eyes and simply shakes her head.

I run a hand down my face impatiently, "Well, where is she?"

"My office," Lena answers quietly, speaking for the first time since I've gotten here, "There's a security guard with her."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, "I just…what _happened_? What did she say?"

"Nothing," Sanchez answers, "All we have right now is what Bradley told us and based on that, I'm sorry but we have to suspend her."

I scoff, "And this boy? Bradley? What happens to him?"

Sanchez shifts, "We can't punish him for being a victim—"

"A _victim_?" I repeat incredulously, "I know my daughter. She would not hurt a soul unless she felt threatened. Obliviously, he did something to her."

"And that may be the case," Sanchez says apologetically, "But _your daughter_ isn't speaking to anyone. She needs to tell us what happened or we can't help her."

This is a nightmare. I share a look with Lena who gets up and follows me out into the hall. She pulls the door shut behind her and crosses her arms.

"She hasn't said anything at all?" I ask.

Lena shakes her head, "I tried, Stef. It's like she's in shock or something. I just…being suspended is one thing but…they might take her from us. She violated her parole."

"I know," I say in a whisper, and I _do _know. It was all I could think about on the drive over here, "Let me talk to her."

Lena leads me to her office. She carefully opens the door and we step inside. There's a woman in there, a security guard. I smile weakly and nod at her, indicating that she can leave. As soon as she does, I turn my attention to my daughter, my baby girl. Her dark brown eyes are wide, as if she's seen something terrifying. Her scraped up hands are clutching the arms of her chair for dear life. I kneel down in front of her and take her hands in mine.

They're shaking.

"Hi, pretty girl," I greet lightly, putting a hand on her cheek. Still, her eyes refuse to meet mine; they continue to stare at something that isn't there. I look at Lena helplessly before turning my attention back to the frightened child in front of me.

"Callie, can you hear me?"

She gives no indication that she's heard me. At this point, I'm not even sure she knows we're in the room. I squeeze her hand and still, she remains unmoving.

Lena sighs, "Stef, this isn't good."

I nod, acknowledging her, before turning back to Callie, "Love, do you want to go home?"

A moment passes but slowly—although she doesn't make eye contact—Callie tilts her head in my general direction, "Home?" she repeats in a whisper, as though it were a foreign word.

"Yes," I say nodding, "Home."

"With you?" she asks, voice rising in something I could only describe as surprise mixed with hope.

I squeeze her hand again, "Of course, my love. Home with me and Mama." I stand up and bring Callie with me. She's unsteady on her feet. She sways a bit before finding her footing. I wrap my arms around her shoulders as support.

"You bring her to the car," Lena tells me, "I'm going to grab my stuff and hers. I'll be out in five minutes."

"Okay."

I lead Callie out of the office and down the hall towards the parking lot. Class must be in session now because there aren't any students in the hallway. I'm thankful for this. We get to the car relatively fast. I open the door to the back seat and guide Callie inside. I get in next to her and pull the door shut behind me.

It's so quiet.

She still has that frightened, far away look in her eyes. I put my hands on her shoulders, "Callie, hey. Whatever happened, Mama and I are going to fix it. Okay? It's all going to be okay." I kiss her forehead and bring her into my arms. She doesn't hug me back, but she doesn't fight me either. She just holds herself still and stares off into space. Still, I keep assuring her; talking enough for the both of us.

"I've got you, baby. Mommy's got you."

**It's short because it's a start. I'm not 100% sure where this will go, but I have an idea. If you're confused, don't worry. It's supposed to be confusing. Let me know what you think.**

**-Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

**Lena (earlier)**

I cannot believe this is happening.

Of all my children, I never imagine Callie would be getting in trouble for fighting. I'm making my way to the outside corridor where everything occurred. Kids pass by me, herded by teachers who threaten them with detention if they don't get to class. I finally reach the 'scene of the crime' and my eyes widen. Bradley Clark is sitting on a bench getting checked out by the school nurse. I can't tell if the blood is coming from his nose or his mouth. His face is already bruising. I look for Callie and I spot her sitting on the floor flanked by two security guards. Sanchez is speaking to her but from Callie's posture and facial expression, I can tell she isn't listening.

"Karina."

She looks up and begins to walk towards me, her face hard. She reaches me and I gesture around, "What happened?"

"A teacher heard yelling from their room," she tells me in a serious tone, "They alerted a security guard who came outside to check. They found Callie hitting Bradley repeatedly. The guard instructed Callie to stop and she wouldn't. He had to forcibly remove her from Bradley. A second security guard had to be brought in to help restrain her. She's calmed down since then."

I run a hand through my hair. This does not sound like Callie in the slightest. I remember when I first met her outside of Chula Vista. David told me she wasn't violent and looking into those eyes…I knew I could believe him.

So how can this be?

"What's her side?" I ask, crossing my arms.

Karina shrugs, "I wouldn't know because she refuses to talk. She hasn't said a _word_. Lena, I'm obligated to report this to her parole officer—"

I close my eyes for a moment and collect myself before opening them again, "I understand. Just…let me talk to her. Please?" Karina steps back and I walk towards Callie. She's sitting on the ground with her head in her hands, shaking it from side to side. I kneel down so that I'm not towering over her.

"Callie."

She doesn't lift her head. I put my hand on her back and pat it a bit, "Callie." Still, she doesn't respond. I gently move her hands down and lift her head so that our eyes meet. I'm taken back by how dark they look, "Callie, you need to talk to me. You need to tell me what happened."

Nothing.

"Please," I plead, desperately searching her eyes for some shred of familiarity, "Please Callie."

Realizing that she isn't going to talk, I stand up and walk a few feet away. I take out my phone and hit number one in my speed dial. I wait relatively little time for the phone on the other line to be picked up.

"Stef? I need you. Something happened."

* * *

><p><strong>Stef (Present)<strong>

I guide Callie into the house with Lena trailing behind us. I lead her over to the living room couch and make her sit before taking Lena's hand and bringing her into the kitchen with me so we could talk.

"I talked to Karina before I left," Lena tells me as she sits on a stool, "She said she'd wait until tomorrow morning to call Callie's parole officer."

I nod appreciatively, "Tell her thank you from me." I peek into the living room where Callie is sitting exactly as I left her, "Alright," I say, taking a seat across from Lena, "What did this Bradley kid say happened?"

Lena takes a deep breath, "He said that he was on his way to class and bumped into Callie. She fell. He tried to help her back up and she started hitting him."

"Are you serious?" I ask incredulously, "That's a load of bullshit! He's either lying or he's not telling the entire truth."

"I agree," Lena says, resting her chin in her hand, "That's why I need to hear Callie's side of the story. This doesn't make any sense."

I rest my arms on the table, "What do you know about this boy?"

Lena shrugs, "Mariana has mentioned him once or twice. He's not a troublemaker. He's on the lacrosse team. He's pretty popular around school." She drums her fingers on the table, thinking for a moment, before meeting my eyes again, "I don't want to scare her, Stef, but we need to shake Callie out of this trance and get her to talk before we lose her."

"I know." I say, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I'm going to take of my uniform and then we'll talk to Callie together, yes?"

"Okay." I stand up from the table and head for the stairs, making sure to kiss Lena on the head before I leave.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

I can't believe I did that.

I don't know what came over me. I haven't felt that way since I saw Phil hitting Jude for wearing that dress. Something came over me; something I couldn't control. I just got so ANGRY. It was bad.

_I _was bad.

And now I have to face the consequences.

* * *

><p><strong>Jude<strong>

"I'm not even kidding, she went crazy!"

I'm walking into science class and see a few people huddled together whispering. I wouldn't say we were best friends, but I talk to them sometimes and they're nice.

I drop my backpack on my seat before going over, "What's up?"

A girl, Christina, turns around with wide eyes, "Did you hear about the fight in the high school?" I shake my head. "Well," she continues, "My brother is a sophomore and texted me," she looks very proud, "And he told me it was some really freaky girl who has like, no friends. Anyway, she beat up Bradley Clark!"

I don't know who this is but still I reply, "Whoa. Do you know why?"

"_I _heard it was because she needed the blood of an innocent to conduct a spell," a mousy boy, William, says. Another kid, Harold, rolls his eyes.

"Man, that is the _dumbest_ thing I ever heard," he says, "Do you believe _everything_ you hear?"

Christina holds up her phone, "Look! My brother is typing back. I asked him for the name of the weird girl."

"Ask your mom what went down," Harold says nudging me, "You can get the inside scoop."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, okay."

Christina's phone buzzes and she reads the text. Her eyebrows knit together, "Huh. Jude, you have a sister, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

Christina bites her lip, "I think the girl was her."

I shake my head, "What?" I look at Christina's phone and read the name her brother sent her.

**her name is calley jacobs or sumthing**

My heart drops into my stomach and I break out into a cold sweat. I want to ask Christina to text her brother again, find out _exactly_ what happened, but the bell has rung.

"Class, please find your seats!"

I stand there for a moment, frozen. She wouldn't do this…she couldn't have.

"Jude?"

I snap out of it and see the teacher shooting me an expectant look. Slowly, feet as heavy as bricks, I trudge my way over to me seat and sit down.

What did she _do_?

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

After changing into more comfortable—as well as less threatening—clothes, I go down to the living room, first aid kit in hand. Callie is sitting in the same position from when we got home. Lena is sitting next to her, whispering. I take a seat on the table across from them and open the first aid kit.

"I want to clean your hands, Callie," I say, trying to catch her eye, "Is that okay?" I wait a moment but she doesn't answer so I go ahead and begin treating her hands. I swipe alcohol wipes across the scrapes and she doesn't even flinch. I apply Neosporin and band aids, kissing her hands when I'm done.

Lena uses her hand to gently turn Callie's face towards her, "Callie, I don't want to scare you into talking to us, but I need you to understand something. Principal Sanchez is obligated to tell your parole officer what happened. Assaulting someone violates the terms of your parole, and getting suspended doesn't look good either." She takes a deep breath, "Honey, you could get _taken away_ from us. We don't want that to happen, so you need to talk to us."

Callie's eyes remain unfocused, "Good." She mumbles.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, "Good?" I repeat, "What's good?"

Callie drops her gaze to the floor, "Take me away."

"Why?" Lena asks, throwing a concerned look my way.

Our daughter shrugs carelessly, eyes still downcast, "I'm bad."

**I am going to try to update Take a Chance on Me a little later today, so watch out for it. I'm aiming to update all of my stories at least once a week. It's difficult juggling three stories, school work and three jobs. I'm trying my best. :)**

**Thanks for the reviews! I was wishy washy about this story but it seems you guys like it, so I'll roll with it. I'm figuring it out as I go, but I like how I'm doing.**

**Until next time,**

**-Liv**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Callie (earlier)**_

_**To: **__Mariana_

_I'm walking to math now. See you the end of the day._

_**From: **__Mariana_

_Kk have fun :P_

_I chuckle to myself a little. Mariana and I have gotten into the habit of texting each other during school when we're bored. It's nice to have her as a sister and as a friend. When I first met her I thought she was selfish and a brat, but I don't think that anymore. I've learned who she really is._

_I'm looking at my phone while I walk to my next class, so I don't see him before we collide. I immediately look up. He's tall with mussed up blonde hair and dark green eyes. I recognize his face but I don't know him too well._

"_Sorry," I mumble as I attempt to maneuver around him but he blocks my path._

"_It's fine," he says with an easy smile, "Aren't you one Principal Adams' kids? Callie?"_

_I nod, "Yeah. Look, I have to go to class—"_

"_What's the rush?" he asks with a laugh, "We still have time." He holds out his hand, "I'm Bradley, by the way."_

_I restrain myself from rolling my eyes and weakly shake his hand, "Nice to meet you."_

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

"Why do you think you're bad?" I ask Callie carefully, taking her hands in mine. She looks down at them, how we're joined, and slowly moves her hands out of my grasp.

"I hurt him." She tells us in a matter of fact tone of voice.

Lena brings her hands together, "Did he do something, Callie?"

Callie's eyes glaze over as she thinks. Something akin to recognition flickers in her eyes but eventually she shakes her head, "I don't remember."

"What _do_ you remember?" I ask. She's worrying me.

She sighs and drops her head into her hands, "Is he okay?" she asks quietly.

"Well his nose is broken," Lena says lightly and Callie flinches, "And he has some bruises, but other than that he should be okay."

Callie takes a deep breath, "Did Sanchez call my parole officer?"

"Not yet," Lena answers, "She agreed to wait until tomorrow morning, after we got your side of the story, but you're saying you don't remember _anything_? Did Bradley say something or do something to make you upset?"

Callie's leg begins bouncing and her eye dart around the room. Obviously she remembers _something_; the question is why doesn't she want to tell us? I put my hand on Callie's knee, effectively stopping her leg and catching her attention.

"Do you understand what we're saying?" I ask in a more stern voice, hoping to startle her a bit so that she'll talk, "If you don't tell us what happened, you can be _taken _from us. You could go back to juvie for _assaulting_ someone. Is that what you want?" She looks away, biting her lip, so I move her head until she's facing me, "Answer me, Callie."

She pulls her face away, "I don't know." She mumbles.

"What don't you know?"

"Stef," Lena warns, putting her hand on my knee.

I refuse to back down, "You don't know what happened or you don't know what you want? Which one is it?"

"I don't know!" Callie exclaims, growing visibly upset. I sigh.

Lena puts her hand on Callie's back, "Honey why don't you go to your room for a bit, okay?"

Callie doesn't waste a moment heading up the stairs. I face Lena, a look of disbelief on my face, "She's lying. She remembers something, she's just not _telling_ us."

"Maybe she's not lying," Lena suggests, "When something traumatic happens, the brain will try to forget the event as a sort of protective measure. She truly might not remember."

"Well that's not going to help us!" I snap. I cover my eyes with my hands and take a few deep breaths, "I'm sorry," I say quietly, "But I can't risk losing our daughter, Lena. We need to fix this."

"And we will," she says, taking my hand and bringing it up to her lips "Just like we always do."

* * *

><p><strong>Callie <strong>

I open my drawers quietly and begin pulling out clothes, not the clothes Stef and Lena bought me, the clothes that I had before I met them. They're all the way at the bottom; I haven't worn them in a while. I pull my old backpack out from under my bed and begin filling it with clothes. This will make it easier when it comes time for me to leave. When I've packed enough things, I zip up my bag and stuff it back under my bed. I know Stef and Lena will be watching me like a hawk, especially since I'm suspended. I'll have to wait for a window.

I lie down on my bed, exhausted both physically and mentally. I used to think I was a good person: I took care of my brother and made sure he was safe. Now I'm not so sure. I find that most of the people I come in contact with—whether intentionally or not—I hurt.

The less people around me, the less people to hurt.

* * *

><p><strong>Brandon<strong>

I stand by Lena's car, waiting for everyone to meet me. I slide open my phone and look again at the message Lena sent me.

_**From: **__Lena_

_Please take your brothers and sister home after school. Mom and I are home with Callie. We'll talk later. _

She didn't mention it explicitly, but I know what happened. The entire school knows what happened; it's all anybody was talking about. Getting through the last couple of periods was rough.

"_Did you hear what Callie Jacob did?"_

"_I heard she broke his arm!"_

"_I _knew_ she was a total psycho!"_

I just wanted to yell at them all to shut up, but I refused to lose it. The last thing Moms need is another kid in trouble. After what seems like an eternity, I see Jesus and Mariana walking towards the car. From the looks on their faces, they're just as confused as I am.

"I can't believe it," Mariana says as she opens the door to the backseat and tosses her bag in, "I mean…why would she do it?"

I shrugged, "He probably did something,"

Jesus plops into the passenger seat, "I heard he's not even in trouble! I swear to God I'll beat his ass—"

"Jesus," I say in warning as I spot Jude approaching us. He follows my gaze and thankfully shuts his mouth. Jude looks worried. I was hoping the middle school hadn't heard about it, but I guess they did.

"Is it true?" Jude asks us when he reaches the car, "Did Callie really beat up some guy?"

Nobody says anything for a moment.

"Moms will figure it out," Mariana says finally, "She'll be okay. Right guys?" She shoots us a look and gestures her head at Jude.

"Totally," Jesus says, catching on, "Don't worry about it, dude."

Jude nods, but doesn't look any less worried. He climbs into the back seat next to Mariana, and I get into the driver's seat. This is turning out to be one hell of a day.

* * *

><p><strong>Mariana<strong>

We walk into the house through the back door. Moms are sitting at the table, talking in hushed tones. As soon as they see us they put on fake smiles that none of us buy for a second.

"Hi, guys. How was school?" Stef asks, turning around to face us. I can tell she's trying to stay calm but I don't think any of us are buying it.

"Did Callie hurt someone?" Jude asks, going straight for the kill. We stare at our moms, waiting for an answer. Stef shares a look with Lena who folds her hands on the table.

"Come sit." We take our usual seats at the table and wait expectantly for them to talk.

"So you probably heard that something happened at school today with Callie, yes?" Stef begins. We nod, "Okay. I'm not sure what you guys heard exactly, but all you need to know is that the boy is okay and Callie is okay. As of right now, she's been suspended from school while we try to figure this all out."

"It was Bradley Clark," Brandon states aloud what we all know, "I've never even seen her talk to him before. He's not even in our grade; he's a senior."

Jude bites his lip, "Do you have to call Callie's parole officer?" he asks timidly.

Lena reaches across the table to take his hands, "We're going to figure this out, buddy. I promise."

"Okay."

"Let's try not to make a big deal out of this," Stef instructs firmly, "Even in a joking manner," she says with a pointed look at Jesus who puts up his hands in surrender.

Lena nods in agreement, "Let's just give her some space for now, okay?" she shares a look with Jude. I know he's probably itching to talk to Callie. Everyone gets up from the table and goes their separate ways. I'm about to leave too but Lena puts her hand on my shoulder and holds me back.

"If Callie tells you anything about what happened," she says in a low voice so that the boys don't hear, "Please tell me or mom."

I nod, "Okay, Mama."

I head upstairs for my room, wondering what exactly I'll be dealing with.

**Just to make things clear, Callie WILL NOT run away in this story and she WILL NOT be taken away in this story. I know it seems that way, but she'll be staying with the Foster's for the story.**

**So the Superbowl. I was rooting for the Seahawks but when Butler (#21) intercepted the ball, I knew it was over. It was heartbreaking. They were SO CLOSE to winning! There's always next year :(**

**It's snowing like crazy in the city. I was walking home from work and was blinded by the snowflakes. They were literally the size of Cheez-Its. **

**Thank you for your reviews! They make me so happy :) You guys are too kind.**

**Until next time,**

**-Liv**


	4. Chapter 4

**Callie **

I'm lying on my bed, thinking to myself, when I hear the door open. I turn over expecting to see Stef or Lena. But it's not. It's Mariana. My heart plummets.

"Hey," she greets me nervously. Obviously she heard what happened. Everyone probably did. She sets her bag down on her bed and takes a seat, "How are you?" she asks gently.

I shake my head. This is too much. It's bad enough I have to share a room with her, but this? What she's doing right now? I can't do this. I get up from the bed and head for the door, "I have to go downstairs."

Mariana gives me a weird look, "Um okay."

I leave the room and head downstairs without a clear destination in mind. I just had to get out of the room and away from _her_. I walk through the living room and into the kitchen. I should eat something, but just the thought of food makes my stomach turn.

"Hey."

I turn around to see Brandon standing in the doorway, "Hey."

He walks into the kitchen and leans against the table, "So…"

"What?" I ask irritably, "Just ask."

Brandon raises an eyebrow, "Ask…?"

"What happened," I supply in an exasperated tone, "You're probably _dying_ to know."

Brandon shrugs, "No, not really."

I narrow my eyes at him but his expression doesn't change. I grab a bottle of water and head out into the backyard. I sit on the deck and stretch out my legs. I hear footsteps behind me and I know it's Brandon.

"Are you okay?"

I sigh, "What do _you_ think?"

Brandon plop down next to me, "Look, I'm just trying to be a good 'big brother' and—"

I scoff, "_Big_ brother? We're the same age."

"Anyway," he continues, undeterred, "I'm just saying, if you wanted to walk or anything, I'm here."

I shake my head and drop my gaze to the grass, "This isn't something I can just _fix_." I mutter lowly.

"Why not?"

"Callie?"

We both turn around to see Lena standing at the door, "Can you come inside please?" she asks, "We need to talk to you for a moment."

I glance at Brandon knowingly before standing up and walking into the house. Lena leads me into the living room where Stef is already sitting on the couch. She sits beside Stef and I stand in front of them with my arms crossed.

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

"Callie we need you to understand something," I say, looking deeply into her eyes, "Putting your hands on somebody else is not okay. Unless it's absolutely necessary, you should _never _resort to violence. That being said, there are consequences for your actions."

She shifts on her feet and although she tries to hide it, I know she's nervous, "Like what?"

"Well for starters you're grounded for three weeks," Lena answers bluntly, "No T.V., no computer. We'll need your phone, your camera and your guitar—"

"You're taking away my camera and guitar?" She repeats incredulously and I can tell she's not happy, "It's not like I can talk to people with them." It's a harsh punishment we're doling out, even for me, but we don't know what else to do at this point.

I nod, "Yes, we are," I say, answering her earlier question, "Also, you'll be going to Girl's United—"

Callie's face pales, "You talked to my parole officer?" she asked in a scared, quiet voice.

"Not yet," I reply, and I feel bad for scaring her, "We're not sending you there to live, Callie. You're staying with us. What I was going to say was that for the week you're suspended, you'll be spending the day at Girl's United, with Rita and Michelle, helping out. We already talked to them."

"Why?"

"We don't want you sitting around the house by yourself all day doing nothing," Lena answers. She isn't lying, but she doesn't say the entire truth. The truth is we're scared Callie will run away if we don't have eyes on her 24/7. At least if she's with Rita, we'll know she's safe. Maybe she'll even talk to her old mentor, "When you eventually return to school, that is the only place you'll be able to go other than group." Lena adds.

Callie blows out a breath and looks down at her sneakers, "If I don't go back to juvie…" she mumbles.

"Yes, Callie," I say in a no nonsense tone, "_If_ you don't go back to juvie, because that is exactly where you'll wind up if you don't talk to us."

She locks her eyes with mine for a moment and I can see the tears in them. She's scared, that's obvious, but still, she won't talk to us. Callie sets her face into an unreadable expression, "Is that it?"

"Please bring us your phone, camera and guitar." I say. Lena and I watch as she stomps up the stairs.

Lena bites her lip, "I don't like this."

"Neither do I, trust me," I say, "But by tomorrow morning, her parole officer is going to know what happened and I don't know how much we'll be able to help her after that."

"She seems unhappy that we're taking her things, but she doesn't look ready to spill," Lena sighs, leaning back on the couch, "She's like a brick wall."

We hear someone coming down the stairs. Callie walks over to us and hands us her phone, camera and guitar. She then turns on her heel and marches away. A moment later, we hear the slam of the backyard door. I turn on the camera and begin flipping through the pictures.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say Callie got her stubbornness from you," Lena says, leaning over my shoulder to see the beautiful scenes our daughter has captured.

I scoff, feigning offense, "I am _not_ stubborn."

Lena digs her chin into my shoulder, "You're pretty stubborn about propagating the idea you're _not_ stubborn."

I whack her playfully on the thigh, "Stop using big words, you're still wrong."

Lena just laughs.

* * *

><p><strong>Jude <strong>

I creep back up the stairs once I hear Stef and Lena joking around with each other. I don't understand it: why won't Callie tell them what happened? She _must _know they're going to tell her parole officer, but she still won't say anything. I know we're supposed to be giving her space but I _need_ to talk to her.

Taking a deep breath, I walk downstairs quietly and go through the kitchen to get to the backyard. Callie is sitting on the deck ripping grass out of the ground. I tap her on the shoulder, "Callie."

She turns around and at first she looks mad but then it goes away, "Hey."

"Why won't you tell them?" I ask.

She turns back to the grass, "Tell who what?"

I roll my eyes, "Stef and Lena, about what happened," I say, "They're going to call your parole officer."

She swallows hard, "I know."

"So _tell_ them!" I practically yell, "Why can't you just tell them what happened?"

Callie shakes her head, "It's not that simple, Jude…"

"So you're just going to go to jail and leave me again?" I ask angrily, "You said you weren't going to be selfish any more—"

"I'm not!" she interrupts me, standing up, "Your not my only sibling anymore, Jude. You're not the only one I have to worry about." She walks into the house without saying another word.

I think over her words in my head. So she was protecting one of us…

But why?

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

I'm running out of places in the house to go. Everywhere I turn there's somebody who wants to talk to me about what happened. I can deal with losing my phone—it's not like I had a bustling social life—but the fact that Stef and Lena took away my guitar and camera…

It hurts.

I shouldn't be like this, because they're materialistic things, but I'd rather be able to use them now before I lose them forever. I doubt I'll be allowed to have a guitar and a camera when I get locked up. With no other option, I go back into my room. I avoid eye contact with Mariana and walk straight to my bed. I kick off my shoes and climb under the covers, pulling the blanket over my head. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" I hear Mariana ask, "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine."

"Because I could—"

"Mariana, stop."

She gets quiet. I hear some ruffling and then footsteps followed by the door closing. I chance a peek from under my blanket and my assumption is right: Mariana left the room. I turn over and face the wall, studying the various pictures that adorn it. I'm not being fair to Mariana. It wasn't her fault. But every time I look at her I remember what happened and I just get so _angry_.

I settle myself on my bed. I think I'll go to sleep. It's not like there's much else for me to do. Even if I had a nightmare, I don't think it could be much worse than this.

**Sorry, I would have updated sooner but I had a mini dilemma. I dropped my phone in a puddle. I soaked it for over 24 hours in rice and it tunred on but it was doing this weird reboot loop. I took it to Apple and explained the problem (not mentioning the puddle) and the man took out my sim card and said, "Looks like you have some water damage." And I, in a performance worthy of an Oscar, said, "Water damage? Well, golly that's news to me!" I felt like if I mentioned the puddle, he would be less willing to fix it and just say, "Buy a new phone." On the bright side it works! But I'm locked out of it. I'm fixing it this weekend. A week with no phone is ROUGH. **

**Thank you for the support and reviews! They make my bleak, phoneless days so much better.**

**Until next time,**

**Liv**


	5. Chapter 5

**Lena**

I'm putting the finishing touches on dinner when Jude strolls in and hangs near the door. I can tell he wants to talk to me about something, but isn't quite ready. I smile at him and go about my preparation.

"Mom?"

No matter how many times he says it, my heart warms every time, "What's up?"

He shuffles over and leans against the counter, "I just…I want…" he takes a deep breath, "Callie is good."

I stop what I'm doing and walk closer to Jude. I put my hands on his shoulders and stoop down to his level, "We know she's good," I assure him, "We don't think Callie is bad, not at all."

"Something happened," Jude whispers, likes he's telling me something he shouldn't be, "Something bad."

I nod, "Mom and I are going to figure it out, okay? You don't need to worry." I press a kiss to his head, "Can you do me a favor and tell everyone it's time for dinner?"

He nods, and begins to walk towards the stairs. He lingers near the door for a moment and tilts his head towards me a bit, "Don't give up, okay?" He doesn't give me time to respond before he disappears upstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

I push open the door to the girls' room quietly. Mariana told me that it looked like Callie was going to sleep earlier, but now it's dinnertime. I peek at Callie who is curled up on her side. Her bandaged hands are splayed out and reaching for something that isn't there. For a moment I just watch her sleep.

It hurts, the fact that she won't tell us what happened. I'd like to think she trusts us, but now…I'm not so sure.

I reach over to shake her shoulder, "Callie."

She lets out a breath and snuggles more into her pillow. I smile a little and try again, "Callie."

She groans a little and sits up, rubbing at her face. When I finally catch her gaze I can see that she is truly exhausted. I feel bad, waking her up, but she needs to eat and we need to try to talk to her one last time before tomorrow morning.

"It's time for dinner," I tell her when she's had a moment.

"Not hungry," Callie mumbles, rolling her neck as her eyelids flutter.

"When was the last time you ate?" I ask, pulling back the covers so that she wakes up more. She shrugs, "Well you need to eat something."

She stands up and moves to leave the room but I stop her by gently grabbing her wrist. She looks up at me, waiting for an explanation, "What ever happened," I say gently, "It won't make Mama and I love you any less." I feel her flinch slightly in my grip, "Our love for you is unconditional. It will never go away. Do you understand?"

Callie looks up at me, eyes swimming with tears. She bites her lip and opens her mouth, and I see she's about to speak, but just as quickly, she closes her mouth and pulls her hand away. She turns away from me and walks out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

I don't really know how to describe dinner.

Quiet?

Awkward?

Tense?

I smash my food underneath my fork, not all that interested in eating it. Everyone at the table has either been sneaking glances at me or avoiding my gaze altogether. I look at the clock and see about two minutes have passed since we've sat down.

Shit.

The phone rings and Jesus jumps up, "I'll get it!" He volunteers and runs over to get it. The silence must be killing him as much as it's killing me. I chance a look at Jude who is giving me a sad, scared look. My heart plummets. I didn't mean to do it, and now he's going to feel the affect of it. I nudge his knee with mine, and give him a small smile.

He doesn't return it.

"Um, Moms?" Jesus walks back into the kitchen with the cordless phone in his hand, "One of you needs to take this."

Lena stands up, hand out and reaching for the phone, "Who is it?"

Jesus shoots me a worried look and looks back at his mom, "It's Bill," he says quietly. My heart seizes. Lena looks at Stef who is already standing up.

"We'll be right back," Stef says with a forced smile, "Keep eating." She leads upstairs; I assume to their room. With them gone, everyone's eyes shift to me. I sigh and drop my fork. It's not like I was eating anyway. I push back from the table.

"Where are you going?" Mariana asks quietly.

"None of your bushiness," I mutter, not bothering to look back at what I know will be a hurt look on her face. I quietly head up the stairs and stop right near Stef and Lena's bedroom.

* * *

><p><strong>Lena<strong>

"Bill, wait a minute. How did you find out about the fight?"

"_I got a call from Callie's parole officer. Do you mind telling me what happened?" _He sounds irritated. We're sitting on the bed with him on speaker so that we can both hear and chime in.

Damn it, Karina.

I look at Stef who looks shocked and pissed. Karina _said_ she would give us until tomorrow morning. Clearly, that wasn't true. I grip my hair and take a deep breath, "We're still trying to figure it all out—"

"_So you don't know?" _Bill interrupts. His voice is laden with exasperation, _"That's just great… Callie's parole officer wants to meet with her tomorrow. I'll be there as well. Can we make this happen?"_

"Yes," Stef confirms, "I'm going to stay home with Callie tomorrow. We can meet around noon so that Lena can be there as well." She looks at me as she says this since this is the first I'm hearing of this plan. I nod, indicating that it's okay.

"_That will work," _Bill agrees, _"If I were you guys, I would make sure Callie has her story airtight and an explanation that will make her like an angel to her P.O."_

"We'll see you tomorrow," I say, "Goodbye, Bill."

"_Goodbye."_

I press the end button and toss the phone behind me on the bed. I drop my head into my hands, "Karina called. Why did she call? She said we had until tomorrow morning!"

"I don't know," Stef says in a weary tone, shaking her head, "But it is what it is."

"We still don't know what happened," I remind her, although there's no doubt she's aware of this, "Come tomorrow, we can't help her."

Stef nods and swallows hard. I can tell this is killing her just as much as it is killing me. I feel her fingers brush against mine and I grip her hand tightly within my own.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

I quietly walk back downstairs to the kitchen, this new information weighing heavy on my shoulders. I didn't like Stef and Lena's tones. It sounded like they had given up.

_Well what did you expect_? A voice nags in the back of the mind, _They don't know what happened and you're not talking. What are they supposed to do?_

I walk back into the kitchen and sit down in my seat. A moment or two later, Stef and Lena return to the kitchen and take their seats as well. They try to appear calm, like nothing is wrong, but it's pretty clear that's not the case.

"Jude and Brandon, you're on dish duty tonight," Lena reminds them in a light tone and they both acknowledge her.

I pick up my plate and empty it into the trash, which winds up being most of the food considering I didn't really eat. I place my plate near the sink and head upstairs to my room. I lie down on my bed and close my eyes.

I need to get my story straight.

**Sorry this is relatively short, but all the action and explanation comes in the next chapter. Everything will make sense, I promise.**

**So Lent began yesterday (Ash Wednesday). I'm giving up meat so I need other sources of protein. So there's eggs, nuts, beans (but I don't like beans). What else is there?**

**Thank you for all the love! :)**

**-Liv**


	6. Chapter 6

**Callie**

Too soon for my liking, 'bedtime' rolls around and I am stuck in the room with Mariana. We have some time before we have to go to sleep and I'm doing my best to avoid talking to or otherwise interacting with her.

Unfortunately, she doesn't have the same idea.

"…But coding isn't that hard. When I first saw it, it looked like some weird language geek language, but now that I'm learning it, it's actually pretty cool. Apparently it's a good skill to have. Do you think you'd ever try it?"

Rolled onto my side, I choose to ignore her and continue reading my book.

"Callie?"

I roll my eyes and sit up, "Mariana, could you leave me alone for a _minute_?" I ask rhetorically in an annoyed voice, "Just stop talking. Please."

Mariana's eyes narrow, "No. You know what, you've been being such a bitch to me ever since I came home from school. I get it, you're all bummed about the fight and being suspended, but that isn't an excuse to be rude to me."

I scoff, "Bummed out? Nice word choice." I say sarcastically. I settle back on my side and go back to reading my book. This lasts for a few seconds because a moment later it's ripped out of my hands.

"What is your _problem_?!" I exclaim, standing up and getting toe to toe with Mariana.

"You!" Mariana exclaims hands on her hips, "What even happened at school? Why are you acting like this?"

I hold out my hand, "Give me the book," I demand in a low tone.

"Not until you talk to me," Mariana asserts defiantly, "Look, official documents or not, you're my sister. I _care_ about you, so hearing you might go back to juvie? It's scary."

I cross my arms, "You're not the one going to juvie. _I _am. So you don't get to be scared. Also, you're _not_ my sister, so you can stop with your bullshit act."

Hurt floods Mariana's eyes just like I knew it would. I'm satisfied and mad at myself at the same time. Her eyes glistening with tears, Mariana chucks the book on the floor and stomps out of the room.

This feels like shit.

It wasn't her fault. It _wasn't_. I just…I don't know. Maybe it's better that she's mad at me. It will make it that much easier for her to forget me when I leave.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie (earlier)<strong>

"_So what's is like?" Bradley asks as he shoulders his backpack, "You know, living with the principal?"_

_I shrug, my eyes looking past him to the doors of the school, "It's fine," I answer shortly, "Look, I really need to go—"_

"_Wait," Bradley says, "I just have a question about your sister."_

_This catches my attention. I raise my eyebrow, "Mariana?"_

"_Yeah," he says, "I was just wondering if she was seeing anyone."_

_I scoff, "Seriously? You know she's a sophomore, right?"_

_Bradley shrugs, "Yeah, I know. I like 'em young."_

"_Sorry," I say without a drop of forgiveness in my voice, "But she's not available."_

"_That's not what I heard," he offers carelessly as he flashes me a devilish smirk, "I heard she's a little slut."_

* * *

><p><strong>Callie (present)<strong>

I hear someone stomp into the room and I look up, expecting to see Mariana, but instead I see Jesus. His jaw is clenched and his hands are balled up into fists at his side.

"What the hell is your problem?" He asks angrily, eyes narrowed dangerously.

I cross my arms, "What?"

"Mariana is in my room crying," he snarls at me, and my stomach clenches because _I _did that to her, "What did you say to her?"

I shrug and try to appear indifferent, "She needs to mind her own business."

Jesus sputters, "Mind her own business? She's trying to help you!" he says, jabbing his finger in my direction, "We're _worried—_"

"Well don't be," I interrupt, throwing up my hands, "I've taken care of myself _and_ Jude for the past seven years. I don't need anyone!"

Jesus shakes his head in disbelief, "What a load of bullshit."

Temper boiling over, I point to the door, "Get out."

"Not until you apologize to Mariana."

I take a step closer to him, "Get. Out."

He takes a step closer to me, "No."

* * *

><p><strong>Callie (earlier)<strong>

"_Don't you dare talk about my sister like that," I growl at Bradley. The bell rings, signaling class has begun, but that is the last thing on my mind._

"_But it's true, isn't it?" Bradley continues, undeterred, "I heard she put her panties in some guys pocket. Obviously she wants some."_

_I drop my bag on the floor, "Stay the hell away from her, asswipe."_

"_Mariana's a big girl," he says, "I think she can decide for herself." He studies me for a moment and suddenly begins to laugh, "Oh, I get it now. You're jealous, right?" He reaches his hand out and touches my hair. I grab his wrist and forcefully push it away._

"_Don't touch me!"_

_Bradley nods, "You're just like all the other girls," he says, stepping closer and closer to me until I'm backed into a wall, "They act all stubborn, they say no. And then they're _begging_ for it." He grabs my hand and brings it to his crotch._

"_Stop!" I gasp out as I wiggle beneath him, "Let me go! Please let me go!"_

"_Come on, Callie." He whispers, his lips touching my ear, "I know you want it. They always want it."_

_I close my eyes and turn my head, "Please."_

_I feel Bradley's hand on the button of my jeans, "Guess what?" His fingers pull down the zipper as he whispers into my ear, "I don't take no for an answer."_

_I elbow him in the stomach._

* * *

><p><strong>Jesus<strong>

"Moms!" I yell, "I need help!"

I'm holding Callie as gently and as non-threateningly as possible while still trying to keep a hold on her, but she keeps thrashing around. I was able to dodge the initial punch and get her into a modified wrestling hold to keep her from hurting herself or me.

"LET ME GO!" She screams as she struggles in my arms. Her head goes flying back and she manages to clip me in the jaw, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Stef comes running into the room, followed by Lena. Their eyes widen at what they see. Behind them I see Brandon, Jude, and Mariana. Mariana still has tears on her cheeks.

"Jesus!" Lena yells her eyes wide as she reaches for Callie.

I shake my head, "She completely lost it! She's trying to hit me!"

In my arms, Callie gives no sign of letting up, "GET OFF!" she screams, sharply angling her shoulders forward.

"Let her go, Jesus!" Stef demands as she walks toward us, "Now!"

I do what she says and let go, and the moment I do, Callie barrels into me. I knock into the dresser and some things fall off. She winds back her fist and is about to throw it at me but Stef catches her in a split second. She wraps her arms around Callie from behind and brings her to the ground. Stef begins talking quietly to her but Callie is still yelling and obviously not listening.

"Everybody out!" Stef commands forcefully. Lena pushes me out of the room and herds us all down the hallway.

"Go downstairs," she instructs, "Stay down there until I tell you." She turns on her heel and quickly walks back to the girls' room. We hesitantly walk downstairs and settle in the living room on the couch. I run my hand through my hair and let out a breath.

Brandon nudges me, "What happened?"

I shrug and shake my head, "I have no idea."

"What did you do?" Jude asks in an accusing voice, eyes narrowed.

"Nothing!" I answer earnestly, "I swear! She just…snapped."

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

"LET ME GO!"

Callie is thrashing around in my arms, trying to free herself. I look up as Lena slips into the room and closes the door behind her. She walks over to where we are and sinks to her knees. She takes Callie's hands in hers and holds them together.

"Breathe in, hold it, breathe out," Lena instructs in a soothing tone.

Callie doesn't seem to be listening, "Get off," she says with less force as her energy gets spent, "Please!"

"In, hold it, out."

Finally, Callie follows Lena's direction. I feel the tension leave her body along with every breath she expels. Lena continues to hold Callie's hands with one of her own and reaches up the other hand to rest on Callie's hair, "Good girl."

"What happened, my love?" I whisper, holding her chin up with my hand so that I can see her eyes. They're so dark; I don't recognize them, "I know you, and this is _not_ you."

Callie shakes her head to herself, "I didn't want to hurt him," she mumbles in a dazed voice.

"We know," Lena assures her, squeezing her hands as she acknowledges her words, "What made you react like that?"

"He made me mad," Callie replies simply, in the same dazed voice.

"How?"

"He kept talking about her. He wouldn't stop."

"Jesus?" I ask, a little confused.

"Not him."

I share a look with Lena. I think Callie is finally telling us what happened at school today.

I rub her back, "Who was Bradley talking about?"

Callie raises her eyes to meet mine, "Mariana."

**And so we get the story! I hope that clears it up for you guys. Are you going to go back and reread, knowing what you know? That's what the movie American Hustle is like, or the sixth sense. There's also a theory that Jack from Titanic was a time-traveller. Look into it. **

**I got a selfie with Boo from Orange is the New Black and Manila Luzon from RuPaul.**

**My life is complete.**

**Just kidding, I need to meet Mariska Hargitay and Beyonce.**

**-Liv**


	7. Chapter 7

**Stef**

"What did he say?" I ask Callie, already sick knowing that this boy had talked about oneof my baby girls in a manner that the other would react in such a violent way, "Did he say something bad?"

Callie closes her eyes, "I didn't want her to get hurt like I did."

Lena furrows her eyebrows, "Like you did?"

Callie nods and opens her eyes, "With Liam." She answers in a well-practiced, detached voice.

My breath catches in my chest and Lena drops her head into her hands, "Oh, Callie," I hear her murmur mournfully.

"Did he say he was going to hurt Mariana like…" I swallow hard, "Like Liam hurt you?"

"_They act all stubborn, they say no. And then they're begging for it_." Callie whispers, eyes hard. She turns in my arms so that we're completely face to face, "I didn't want it, Mama," she swears to me desperately as she grips my shirt so tightly her knuckles turn white, "I promise, I didn't want it."

I hear Lena choke on sob and I'm struggling back my own tears, "We know, baby," I hurry to assure her, "Please, Callie, we know." I cradle her close to me and kiss her curls. My tears wet her hair. Lena brings Callie's bandaged hands up to her lips and kisses them.

"He was going to hurt my sister," Callie mumbles into my shirt, "I couldn't let him do that. I had to stop him before he could touch her." She takes a shuddering breath, "But I couldn't. I didn't finish."

"Finish?" Lena repeats questioningly. I have a feeling I'm not going to like what comes out of Callie's mouth next. Her eyes look down at her bandaged hands. Her voice takes on a deliberate and unapologetic tone as she speaks her next words.

"I was going to kill him."

* * *

><p><strong>Callie (earlier) <strong>

_I know I should stop, but I can't. I just keep hitting him over and over. _

"_HEY! GET OFF OF HIM! YOUNG LADY!"_

_But I don't. I just keep hitting him. He was all talk before and now he's _begging_ for me to stop._

_I feel arms wrap around me, and someone is pulling me off of Bradley. I try with all my might to rip away from them._

"_Calm down!" The person yells into my ear, "You're looking at some serious trouble!"_

_But I don't listen. I keep fighting. Bradley's sitting up now, holding his nose. That's not I wanted. He threatened my sister. He touched me like I was a stupid fifteen year old again._

_I want to kill him._

* * *

><p><strong>Stef (present)<strong>

I shake my head determinedly, tears falling of their on accord, "No, Callie. You weren't. I know this for a fact. You are not capable of that. I _know_ you."

Callie focuses on the floor beneath us, "Obviously you don't."

"You're a good girl," I say forcefully, "In that moment, you may have felt like you wanted to seriously hurt him, but I know in my heart the _second_ it got too far, you would have stopped. You are _not_ a bad person, Callie."

Her lower lip begins to tremble and she bites it, "I'm scared," Callie admits in a whisper, "I'm going back to juvie."

"You're not," Lena says so strongly that for a moment _I _believe her, "We are going to talk to your parole officer and Dr. Kodema. You can't be punished for something out of your control."

I feel Callie stiffen, "Dr. Kodema?"

Lena nods, "Honey, I think you have PTSD."

Callie shakes her head, "No…" she says weakly, "I'm not crazy."

"It doesn't mean you're crazy," I soothe, rubbing her back, "Not at all. It occurs after a traumatic event and it can lead to some problems for the person experiencing it. Bradley triggered something for you."

"You need to tell us _exactly_ what happened," Lena says, catching Callie's eyes, "As much as you remember. Please, honey. It's so important that you tell us _exactly _what happened."

Callie swallows hard. She reaches out both of her hands: one to grip the hem of my sweater and the other to hold Lena's index and middle fingers.

And she tells us.

* * *

><p><strong>Mariana<strong>

"It's been kind've long," I mention quietly to the others, "Should we go check on them?"

"Lena said not to come up until she told us," Brandon reminds me. I sigh and sink back into the couch. I pull the afghan tighter around my body.

Jesus aimlessly flicks through channels on T.V., "I've never seen Callie flip out like that," he comments, "It was weird."

"She's never like that," Jude chimes in, and he sounds desperate for us to believe him, "She'd never hurt someone."

"We know that, Jude," Brandon placates him, "It's just…surprising."

Jude lets out the sigh of an eighty year old man who's seen it all, "I don't want her to go away."

"She's won't," Brandon quickly says.

"How do you know?" Jude asks, the disbelief evident in his tone as he turns to face Brandon. My big brother shakes his head; he's at a loss for words.

Unable to stand it anymore, I toss the blanket off and rise to my feet, "I'm going upstairs." I announce.

Jesus stands up, too, "Mariana…"

"I just want to check," I explain, "You guys stay down here. I'll be right back."

I head upstairs quietly and pad down the hallway. Callie may have upset me earlier, but that doesn't make me care any less about her. I reach our room and lightly press my ear to the door.

It's quiet.

I don't hear any talking or moving around. Throwing caution to the wind, I quietly push open the door and peek inside. Stef is sitting on the floor with her back against my bed. Callie is more or less in her lap, her head on Mom's shoulder. She looks so out of it. Lena is sitting next to Stef, her hand resting on Mom's leg. Mama is the first to spot me.

"Mariana…" she breathes. She looks so sad. When Callie hears my name she turns her head towards the door. She sits up against Stef and holds out her hand.

"Come here," she pleads quietly, "Please?"

I walk into the room and drop to my knees near Callie. The second I'm settled, she wraps her arms around me and holds me close. She pulls back a little so that I can see her face, "I'm so sorry," she whispers, "You're my sister and I love you, and I'm so, _so _sorry." There are tears in her eyes and she sounds so anxious for me to forgive her.

"It's okay," I promise sincerely, "I forgive you. I love you, too." I take her hand in mine. The bandages feel rough beneath my fingertips, "Are you okay now?"

She nods weakly, "I'm fine." Her gaze flicks over to the dresser. Different things are knocked over or on the floor. But nothing is broken. We can put everything back where it belongs and it will be like nothing happened.

Almost.

"Callie, I'd prefer if you stayed with me and Mama tonight, alright?" Stef says this lightly, like she's trying not to startle a small animal.

Callie bites her lip and looks at me with worried eyes, "I don't want to leave Mariana alone."

"I'm not alone," I assure her, "I have Moms and Brandon and Jesus and Jude. And I have you. I'll be okay." She nods. She moves out of Stef's lap and shakily gets to her feet. Mom and Lena stand up as well.

"I want to say sorry to Jesus," Callie mumbles, eyes downcast. It's obvious she feels bad.

I feel Lena's hand on my shoulder, "Mariana, can you tell your brothers they can come upstairs now and send Jesus to our room?"

"Sure," I say. Stef leads Callie out of the room. Lena lingers. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something but closes it and instead pulls me into her arms holds me really close.

She's shaking.

"Are you okay, Mama?" I ask, wrapping my arms around her just as tightly and laying my head over her heart. It' pounding—I can hear every beat.

Lena kisses my hair, "I love you, Mariana. So much. Promise me you'll be careful?"

"I promise," I say, even though I'm really confused. She gives me one last kiss and sends me on my way downstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

I'm perched on the edge of Stef and Lena's bed, nervously waiting for Jesus. I didn't mean to hurt him, not at all. But it happened and I have to make things right. There's a small knock on the door and Jesus peeks his head inside before completely entering.

I look at Stef and Lena, who are sitting with me, "Can we have some privacy, please?" I ask. They share a hesitant look with each other, "Just for a few minutes. We'll be fine."

They agree and exit the room, although I'm sure they're right outside. I stand up and walk over to Jesus. I inspect his face and am horrified to see a slight red swelling along his jaw where my head connected with his face.

"Oh, Jesus," I breathe, hand pressed to my mouth, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…" I sigh, "I'm so stupid."

He shakes his head, "Callie, its okay—"

"No, it's not." I interrupt, "I _hurt_ you." I can't believe I did that. It's horrifying to even _think_ about, let alone look at the evidence of it.

Jesus waves his hand, "Please. You barely made a mark. It's takes a lot more than some girly hits to knock me out." He flashes me his signature goofy smile and I manage a little smile, too.

"I love Mariana," I continue, "And you and Brandon. You guys are my siblings. I'm really sorry for what I said."

Jesus shrugs, "I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But if you _really_ want to make it up to me, I've been dying for some biscuits and gravy…" He waggles his eyebrows and I laugh a little.

"Consider it done."

Jesus steps closer and opens his arms, "And I want a hug." I groan good-heartedly, but step into his arms. I'm not prepared for his huge bear hug. He completely swoops me off my feet and squeezes me tight.

"Let go!" I tell him, but this time we're both laughing and no one is yelling.

Jesus sets me on my feet, "We're good, okay? Biscuits or not."

I nod, "We're good."

**I gave up meat for Lent. I want bacon. I WANT BACON.**

**I started watching Bob's Burgers and it is freaking amazing. Everyone go watch it, now. **

**Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites. You guys are so kind :) I'm trying to stay on top of my writing but midterms are next week. I already bombed one :( First time ever, too, so I'm kind've shocked. Just have to work harder I guess. **

**This, too, shall pass.**

**All my love,**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- POSSIBLE new story idea. Although I need to work on my sequel for ****Take a Chance on Me****…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Stef**

I pace around the kitchen and try to ease my breathing. I haven't stopped shaking since we were in the girls' room. Callie isn't violent. The person who went after Bradley and Jesus…that wasn't my daughter. I _know_ her. The fact that she's been suffering for so long and we didn't _know_…

"Stefanie."

I stop my pacing. I almost forgot that Lena was here. She's leaning against the counter. Her curls hang in her face. She looks defeated.

"We didn't know," I mutter quietly, "How could we not realize our daughter has PTSD? With everything she's been through, we should have seen it." I shake my head and cover my eyes with my hand, "Damn it."

I hear Lena walking towards me, and then I fell her hand gently pull my wrist down and away from my face, "We should go upstairs," she suggests, "I think she's done talking to Jesus."

I nod in agreement. Hands intertwined, we head up the stairs and enter our bedroom. Jesus isn't there anymore, it's just Callie. She's sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes are focused on an invisible spot on the floor and she's biting the nail of her thumb. Her leg is bouncing erratically; I don't think she even realizes it.

She's nervous.

The moment she senses us in the room, Callie gets to her feet. Her fingers bunch in the fabric of her shirt. She opens her mouth, as if she wants to tell us something, but then closes it and looks down her feet.

"I think we should all get some sleep," I announce as I move towards the bed to pull back the covers, "It's been a long day."

"I'm sorry," Callie mumbles as she shifts on her feet, "For hurting Bradley and Jesus, for what I said to Mariana and the way I've been acting—"

"We don't blame you for the way you reacted to Bradley," Lena assures her as she crosses the room so that she's standing directly in front of Callie, "He shouldn't have spoken about Mariana that way and he _definitely _shouldn't have touched you the way he did. The way you reacted…it was out of your control."

Callie sighs, "But that's the thing. I lost control. That's bad."

"It's not bad," I tell Callie, "_You're _not bad." She nods, but I don't think she believes me. I hold up the blankets, "Climb in."

"I can stay in my room," Callie says quietly, her dark eyes finally meeting mine, "I won't hurt Mariana. I promise."

My baby.

"We know that, Love," I say strongly, walking over to her and taking her hands, "We know you would never hurt her or your brothers—"

"I hurt Jesus!" Callie argues stubbornly, "I didn't mean to, and it's okay if you don't trust me but I—"

"Of course we trust you, Callie," Lena interjects in a appalled tone, "We're not keeping you from Mariana because we think you're going to hurt her. What happened with Jesus…it's over now. And just like what happened with Bradley, we don't blame you." She brushes some hair behind Callie's ears, "I can see it in your eyes, how sorry you are for hurting Jesus. He knows how sorry you are, too."

"We just want you with us tonight because we're your moms and you're hurting, and we want to fix it," I add gently, "Will you let us?"

Callie looks down and nods slightly.

I move to the bed and hold back the blankets yet again, "Climb in," I repeat.

She gets into the bed and Lena and I follow, sandwiching her in between us. I switch of my lamp and we settle underneath the covers in the dark. I turn on my side and look down at Callie and I'm surprised.

She's looking right at me.

It's not that Callie _never_ makes eye contact with us—she does—it's just a rare, beautiful sight to see. Her eyes shine with different colors.

Fear.

Sorrow.

Anger.

Love.

I open my arm, lifting up the blanket with it, and she curls into me like she's been doing it forever. I hold her close to me. I feel the half moons of her nails desperately claw at my back.

"I'll protect you," I whisper into her hair, "I'll keep you safe. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

Morning comes too quickly for my liking. I didn't sleep much last night. I don't think Stef and Lena did either, because I kept hearing them move around. At one point Lena got up and left the room for a few minutes.

I think she was checking on Mariana.

Stef didn't let go of me the entire night. Her arms never loosened their grip, even at the times she was asleep. Now, I look up at her to see if she's still asleep. Her eyes are closed. I try to wiggle out of her grasp without disturbing her.

"Where are you off to?"

Her eyes are open now. They're bright—she's been awake for a while.

"I want to make breakfast for Jesus," I explain in a quiet tone, "I told him I would."

Stef nods and her eyes slip closed again. She loosens her grip and I'm able to roll over so that I face Lena. She's awake, too.

"Can you help me?" I ask her, "Please?"

She nods, "Of course, honey."

* * *

><p>Lena and I have breakfast pretty much done by the time everyone else comes trickling downstairs. I saw Jesus and Mariana last night, so I know we're good, but I didn't see Jude or Brandon.<p>

I'm more worried about Jude. I can count the amount of times he's seen me lose control on one hand, and each and every time he was absolutely terrified.

So was I.

I smile at Jude as he takes a seat, "Good morning."

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, eyes full of concern.

I rub his back, "I'm okay," I promise, "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

He shrugs good-naturedly and begins grabbing some food. Brandon raises his eyebrow at me and I nod discreetly, silently indicating that I'm fine.

Stef enters the kitchen with her cellphone in hand. She takes my wrist and gently leads me over to the sink, "I just got off the phone with Dr. Kodema," she tells me in a voice that only the two of us can hear, "She's going to come over a little before Bill and your parole officer do. She's going to talk to you and then she's going to talk to them, alright?"

I nod.

"Everything will be okay, sweet girl," Stef continues, squeezing my hand, "Have faith in us."

I nod again and she kisses my forehead before sitting down at the table.

* * *

><p><strong>Lena<strong>

As soon as my feet hit school grounds, I'm on a warpath. I march straight to Karina's office and open the door. She looks startled for a moment, and then her features become stoic with a hint of weariness, "Lena—"

"You said we had until tomorrow morning," I remind her angrily, "So why did I get a call from Callie's social worker while we were eating dinner?"

Karina sighs and leans back in her seat, "As soon as Bradley's parents found out what happened, they were pushing for something to be done _that instance_."

"You could have _warned_ me," I say, not accepting her excuse of an answer, "We were completely blind sided!"

"I'm sorry, Lena," Karina says in what has to be the most unapologetic tone I've ever heard, "But when a parent comes to me with a concern about the welfare of their child, I can't ignore that."

I cross my arms and stand up straighter, "Okay. I'm a parent and I have a concern about the welfare of _my_ child. Do you now what Bradley did? He told Callie that Mariana was a slut and that she's 'begging for it.' He touched Callie—_he unbuttoned her pants_-even though she repeatedly asked him to stop."

I walk closer and brace my hands steadily on her desk, "I may be the vice-principal but first and foremost, I am a _parent_. So tell me: what are you going to do for _my_ child?"

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

With the kids and Lena at school, it's just Callie and I in the house. We clean up the kitchen from breakfast and shower and now we're just waiting. I'm in the kitchen, watching as Callie paces the length of the backyard. She's clearly deep in thought about what's going to happen today. She looks so nervous. I feel bad for taking away the things that could distract her at a time like this, especially in light of new evidence. Making a quick decision, I run up to my room and grab Callie's guitar and bring walk it downstairs and through the backyard doors.

Callie looks up as soon as the door opens; I guess she wasn't that deep in thought. Seeing the guitar in my hands, he eyes light up for a moment, but just as quickly they dim and she looks away. I slowly walk over to her and hold out the instrument, "Here."

"What?"

"Take your guitar."

Callie shakes her head, "You took it away."

"I know," I acknowledge, "As a punishment, but you don't deserve to be punished so I'm giving it back."

Again, Callie shakes her head. Her eyes scan the grass as if she could find an answer in the green blades, "I hurt your son. Keep it."

I sigh, "Callie, you barely bruised your _brother_," I say, stressing the last word, "You apologized and he forgave you. Just like when you were with Bradley, the PTSD took over for a moment. Please take the guitar, honey. I can see how stressed out you are."

"I don't want it," she insists and walks into the house.

Shaking my head to myself, I follow her inside and set the guitar down on the kitchen table. I find her in the living room, sitting on the couch and staring out the window.

I sit down next to her and take her hand in mine, "Can I change your bandages?" I ask.

She shakes her head 'no.'

"How come?"

"They're fine."

I pick up her hand and inspect it closely: the edges of the bandages are coming loose where they got wet with water, "Let's go take these off," I say, making it sound more like a demand rather than a suggestion, "We should let the cuts breathe."

Callie stands up and we walk upstairs to my bathroom where we keep the first aid supplies. I have her sit on the edge of the tub and I kneel on the floor and begin to unravel the white tape and gauze.

"Do they hurt?" I ask, "Try wiggling your fingers."

She wiggles them and a flash of pain crosses her face, but still she shakes her head, "They're okay."

This child.

I take the bandages off completely and toss them into the garbage. I apply some more antibacterial gel to the cuts and stand up, "All done. That wasn't so bad now, was it?" I tease lightly.

Callie is studying the cuts on her knuckles, "They're going to scar?" she asks, although it sounds like she already has an idea what's going to happen.

I tilt my head, "Maybe, maybe not," I reply diplomatically, "The cuts are very small."

She looks up at me and catches my eyes, "Do you think I gave Bradley scars?"

I'm taken by surprise by her question. I open my mouth and close it. Thinking to myself, I finally come up with, "I don't know, Sweets. Why do you ask?"

Callie looks down at her hands again before answering me, "Scars are ugly," she says with a tone of finality.

"Who told you that?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why she has this idea in her head. When I don't receive an answer, I decide to take matters into my own hands.

"Callie."

She looks up at me and I life up the bottom of my shirt, just enough so that I can show her the scar I bear from when I got shot. Her face twists into a mask of curiosity.

"Do you think my scar is ugly, Callie?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "No," she whispers.

"Then, what is it?"

Callie lets out a heavy breath, "You thought you were protecting your son from that awful woman."

"And you were protecting your sister and _yourself_," I assert firmly.

I drop the bottom of my shirt Callie looks down at her hands once again and studies them. She splays her fingers out and contracts them back into her palm.

"Stef?"

"Yes?"

"I have a lot of scars."

I hold her face in my hands and pepper her forehead with kisses.

"The best people usually do."

**Midterms. Ugh. Now I'm on Spring Break.**

**Thank the Lord the snow is melting. I can actually wear dresses and tights instead of sweatshirts and leggings. Is it weird that when I'm feeling "lazy" I wear dresses? They're just so easy.**

**I'm really tired.**

**-Liv**


	9. Chapter 9

**Lena**

I walk into the house a little before twelve. I'm taking my lunch here so that I can be present when Bill and Callie's probation officer come over. I walk into the kitchen where Stef is sitting at the table, looking out the window at the backyard.

"Hey," she says, turning her head, "Dr. Kodema is talking to Callie right now. She's been here for about forty-five minutes."

"Good," I say and sit down across from her. Stef reaches out to take my hands and strokes the tops of them.

"Are you alright?" Stef asks, "You seem a little tense."

I chuckle cynically and shake my head, "You would be, too, after dealing with Karina."

Stef's features harden, "What did she say?"

"How she had to respond to a parent with a concern about the welfare of their child," I inform her, "Even after I told her what happened, she _still_ treated Bradley like the victim." My blood boils just _thinking_ about my superior, "I swear she's only concerned about the money the Clark family donates to the school."

Stef scoffs, "Wonderful," she mutters sarcastically. The doorbell rings and we look at each other. Stef rises from her seat and squeezes my knee before going to answer the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Callie<strong>

We're seated at the kitchen table: Stef, myself and Lena on one side, and my probation officer—Cyrus—Bill, and Doctor Kodema on the other. A panel of people with the power to decide my fate.

I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life.

Stef is holding my hand beneath the table, which makes me feel somewhat better, but I still can't shake the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Alright, Callie," Cyrus says, folding his hands, "Tell me what happened."

I take a deep breath, "I was walking to class and Bradley stopped me. He wanted to know about my…about Mariana. He was making really inappropriate comments about her and then he started touching me and I…reacted," I finish lamely.

"What did he say?" Cyrus asks.

I sigh, "He called Mariana a slut. He said all girls are the same: first they say no and then they beg for it."

"You said he touched you?"

My cheeks redden and I drop my gaze to the table, "He um touched my hair. He took my hand and made me touch his…you know. He pulled down the zipper on my jeans." Completely humiliated, I swallow hard and bite my lip.

I hear Bill sigh.

Cyrus turns to Dr. Kodema, "What are your thoughts about this?"

"She's showing symptoms of PTSD," Dr. Kodema answers, "Which I believe was initiated by what occurred in the Olmstead's household. Callie's reaction to what Bradley did is expected of someone in her situation."

"So she can't be held accountable for her actions?" Cyrus says.

Dr. Kodema takes a breath, "Hearing what happened and knowing Callie and what she went through? I have to say no."

Stef squeezes my hand, "Bill?"

My social worker rubs his face, "I'll talk to the school," he says, locking eyes with Lena, "We'll straighten this out. I'm not completely sure we'll be able to reduce the punishment for Callie—she _did_ get violent with another student—however we'll look into having Bradley punished for what he did."

Cyrus pulls out some papers, "In the meantime," he says, "Callie, you will see Dr. Kodema one on one, four times a week. We're eliminating group therapy entirely."

My mouth, "Four times a week?" I repeat in disbelief.

Cyrus nods, "Also, we need to find you an outlet. Preferably something physical such as a sport or exercise; something that we can use as a channel for your anger."

"I'm not—"

"You're angry," Cyrus asserts, "I need to make your case to a judge. I need her to believe that you are doing everything in your power to manage your anger."

I drop my head into my hands and close my eyes, "Okay," I mumble, "Whatever."

I feel Lena's hand come up to rub my back, "We'll find something."

Everyone begins to stand up and gather his or her things. After promises of calls and meetings and paperwork, everyone leaves. It's just the three of us left in the house.

"That went well," Lena says carefully and I roll my eyes.

"Hey," Stef says in a warning tone, catching my irritation, "You lucked out, Callie."

"Lucked out?" I repeat sarcastically "I just went from having one on one therapy once a week to _four _times a week. I have anger issues. I'm a psych case."

Stef shakes her head, "You're not a psych case—"

"You _heard _them," I say in a frustrated tone as my voice threatens my resolve, "I'm violent. I'm angry. I have issues." I shake my head, "Sometimes, I wonder why you guys even bother."

Stef walks up to me swiftly and lifts my face so that I meet her eyes, "We love you, Callie," she says, "We _love _you. And that's all you need to know. When ever you wonder why we do anything for you, just know that we love you."

"But why?" I ask, "How?"

Stef shares a look with Lena. She leads me over to the couch and we sit. Stef and Lena are on either side of me. They each take one of my hands.

"The night you went to get Jude," Stef begins, "You told me I could send you back to juvie if it meant your brother was safe. When you found out that Sarah was staying with the Olmstead's, you told us even though he threatened you. You stood up for you sister. You protect the people you love so fiercely. We love you because you make it so easy for us."

I shake my head, "I ran away. I stole. I hurt Bradley and Jesus—"

"You're not your file, Callie," Lena says quietly, using her free hand to move some hair behind my ear, "Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn't define who you are."

I take a deep breath, "I'm sorry," I whisper, "For the trouble I've cause you guys."

Stef swoops in to kiss my cheek, "No trouble," she says, "Not at all." She repeatedly kisses my cheek until I can't help it and begin to giggle. Lena joins in and I start squirming in their arms.

"Okay!" I say, still laughing, "I get it."

Stef rests her cheek on my head, "What do you get?"

"That you guys love me."

"Unconditionally and for always," Lena adds with a smile.

I nod, "Unconditionally and for always."

* * *

><p><strong>Brandon<strong>

I'm walking through the hall when I catch sight of Bradley. My hands clench into fists automatically. He's casually leaning against his locker, joking around with his friends. His left eye is black and his nose has tape over it.

Callie did a number on him.

Taking a deep breath, I march past him.

"…She was probably PMS-ing or something," I hear Bradley say to his friends, "That one has always been a little…" he twirls his finger in circles around his ear and his idiot friends laugh.

I'm ready to make his right eye match his left.

But I keep walking. Moms don't need any more trouble.

* * *

><p><strong>Stef<strong>

Lena has to return to work and for the second time today, it is just me and Callie in the house. We're sitting in the kitchen, eating lunch, and an idea pops into my head.

"How about running?" I suggest, "You can go with me."

Callie pulls a face, "I don't know."

"It can be enjoyable if you know what you're doing," I continue, "Can we at least try?"

Callie pushes her plate away, "Right now?"

"Oh," I stutter in surprise, eyebrows raised, "Well, not at this particular moment because we just ate, but maybe in an hour or so?"

"Okay," Callie agrees. She takes our empty dishes to the sink and runs the water over them. When she's finished, she turns off the faucet and turns to face me. Her lips are pressed together in a manner that leads me to believe she wants to tell or ask me something.

"Stef?"

"Yes?"

Callie shifts on her feet, "Um, earlier you said…I mean it's all right if I can't have it, but…" she trails off.

I smile softly, "You can ask me, Love. The worst I can say is no."

"Can I have my guitar?" she finally asks, voice full of hope and uncertainty.

I stand up and grab the instrument from where it is propped up against the wall. I walk over to Callie and hold it out to her. She takes it gratefully, a relieved breath escaping her as her fingers wrap around the neck.

"Are you going to play?" I ask.

Callie nods, "I'll just be in the backyard." The way she phrases it, it's like she's asking for my permission.

"That's fine," I assure her, "I'll just be doing what needs to be done, and then we'll go running, okay?"

Callie smiles, "Okay." Holding her guitar reverently in her hands, she walks through the back door.

* * *

><p><strong>Mariana<strong>

I might be reading too much into this, but it feels as though everyone in school is staring at me. Then again, it's probably due to the fact that I live with Callie and she nearly pummeled him to death.

Still…

I'm at my locker, gathering some books before class when I see someone come up next to me in my peripheral vision. I look up and see none other than my enemy, Kelsey.

"What do _you _want?" I ask, turning my gaze back to my locker.

Kelsey crosses her arms and a devilish smirk graces her lips, "So I heard about your sister and Bradley. Pretty crazy, huh?"

"It's none of your business," I tell her sharply as I shove books more forcefully into my locker.

"Well, it's kind of _your _business."

I face her and raise an eyebrow in question. Kelsey's eyes widen in mock surprise, "Don't tell me you don't know!" she exclaims. She laughs to herself, "Maybe you should ask Callie why she beat up Bradley in the first place..." Kelsey gives me a look and walks off, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

What the hell is she talking about?

**Spring Break was like, 30% vacation, 70% work. I'm excited for The Fosters season finale! Who do you think got in the car accident? I keep hearing rumors about Jake T. Austin but they can't kill him off. Can they?**

**I'm so tired and I overslept slightly so I had to go to class dressed like a ragamuffin. Straight up thrift shop sweater and grandpa socks. Thank you for the reviews/interest you show in this story! It's really makes me happy during my bleak college days. At least I have something to look forward to in your kind words/displays of support. :)**

**That's all I have to say at the moment.**

**-Liv**


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